


I'll be Back by Tuesday

by raven_of_hydecastle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I blame my roommates (again), I'm sorry Merlin, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mostly hurt, My mind has entered a dark place since watching Nostalgia Critic, Torture, and I'm sorry (again), captured Merlin, dark themes, good luck finding any comfort here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-26 03:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_of_hydecastle/pseuds/raven_of_hydecastle
Summary: They held each other like the world was gone. Merlin couldn’t feel himself anymore, or the boy in his hands. It had been hot, but now it was horribly cold. Arthur said he was coming back on Tuesday, but Tuesday had come and gone, so why wasn’t he here?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a great day so I have no idea where this came from.

Merlin watched Arthur from a crack in the cave’s wall. His lips were dyed green from the potion the bandits fed their prisoners, which dampened his magic, and his hands were rubbed raw from the chains he’d worn--the ones that had been just big enough to slip out of if he didn’t mind skinning his thumbs. There’d been a chance for Arthur to escape, and he hadn’t minded at all.

While he caused a distraction Arthur slipped past the guard. Merlin released his breath as Arthur stole one of the bandits' horses and rode away. It wouldn’t be long before the guards discovered he was missing; that gave them a chance.

Several pairs of footsteps echoed through the dark tunnels, and the walls lit from the orange glow of torches as the bandits came.

Merlin closed his eyes and swallowed. There was a barracks nearby; Arthur would get the soldiers, the raiders would be killed, he and the villagers would be safe. He’d be back by Tuesday.

One of the guards put a meaty hand on his small shoulder and squeezed.

Merlin faced his captors and hoped it was true.

 

***

 

When the beatings were over, they threw Merlin back into his cell. It was a small, rank room crowded with three others; a man, a mother, and her little boy.

There was no torch in the cell, and when the bandits walked away, laughing loudly, all that they could see were the dark silhouettes of each other. Merlin did not move, he could not trust himself to move. There was a sharp stinging in his hands that wouldn’t fade, and his back felt hot and wet.

“Did it work?” the man asked desperately.

Merlin nodded vigorously.

“Well?” the man said again, squinting against the shadows.

“Arthur will be back by Tuesday,” Merlin managed. “We’re going to be safe.”

The mother started to cry.

“Thank the gods,” the man groaned.

The little boy put his hand on Merlin’s cheek. His hand was cold and grubby.

“You’re bleeding,” the little boy whispered through a split lip.

Merlin raised his shaking hand and placed it on the boy’s head.

“I’ll be okay,” he said, forcing a smile.

Somebody shouted further down the hall, and a line of shadows marched closer to them, elongated by the many torches they carried. One of the cells beside theirs was opened, and a man screamed.

The little boy flinched back into his mother’s arms, and the man covered his face. Merlin lay on the floor, twisted oddly. He listened to the screams and jeers nearby and they didn’t register. His breathing slowed, and his eyes closed when the pain became too much. He needed rest; when he woke they’d be closer to Tuesday.

 

***

 

Merlin couldn’t see out of his right eye, but there hadn’t been light in so long he was forgetting that. What worried him were his hands, which still hadn’t stopped shaking, and the little boy and his mother, who he had wrapped in his arms.

The man was gone; they didn’t know where they’d taken him, but he still wasn’t back. Merlin didn’t think he’d ever be coming back.

The mother sobbed into his shoulder. Merlin tightened his arm around her.

“Don’t worry,” he rasped, “Arthur’s coming back on Tuesday.”

“No,” the mother said. “no, he isn’t.”

 

***

 

They took the mother away and Merlin couldn’t stop them. She’d screamed and kicked her small feet at the men while he could only watch, his magic twisted against him by the potion forced down his throat. He was crying, and the little boy was crying, and the soldiers were laughing.

“Let her go!” the little boy shrieked.

Merlin dragged the little boy behind him as a bandit entered the cell, scarred face twisted in a smile. Soon they were screaming for him to stop.

 

***

 

They held each other like the world was gone. Merlin couldn’t feel himself anymore, or the boy in his hands. It had been hot, but now it was horribly cold. Arthur said he was coming back on Tuesday, but Tuesday had come and gone, so why wasn’t he here?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody threatened to kill me if I didn't "fix this" so here you go.

Arthur curled his fingers around the leaves, feeling them crackle as his fingers searched for a handhold in the soft earth. He breathed hard, each inhale painful and sharp. The crossbow bolt in his back was the only thing keeping him conscious, like a sharp thorn digging into his left shoulder-blade.

He’d been so focused on escape that he hadn’t even seen the archer. Then he’d collapsed against his horse as the bolt thudded into him, so hard that he couldn’t breathe. 

Now he lay broken in last fall’s leaves, thrown off by his horse after escaping his pursuit, unable to even crawl forward. Shock blocked out everything but the sound of his heartbeat. He could feel the world slow down, and the blackness creep up from the sides of his eyes. 

He shuddered, trying against to stand, and managed to lean against an oak, fumbling for purchase. A wave of spots flew past him, eating the landscape like flies covered honey. He couldn’t see. 

The prince of Camelot fell forward and did not move. The tree he had been leaning on was covered in blood.

 

***

 

When he woke, he began to crawl. The night air was cold and the ground was wet with dew. He left a red trail behind him. It would be easy to find him, but the bandits probably hadn’t even bothered to look for him after the sun went down. They were sloppy, overconfident ... But dangerous. 

Arthur paused, drawing a shuddering breath. He saw bloody, skinned hands behind his eyelids.

“ _ I’ll be back by Tuesday. I promise.” _

The panic was back, gnawing through his gut like a rat. Tuesday, he’d said, he’d be back by Tuesday. Merlin’s wide eyes stared at him, oceans of trust, from inside his memory, as the servant had wished him luck and ran forward, limping, his small shoulders tensed so Arthur could escape.

_ No man is worth your tears _ , he’d been told, but Arthur could barely hold back the wracked sob that threatened to pull him apart. Merlin was still there, and he’d left him with men more twisted than Morgana.

 

***

 

He couldn’t remember how long he’d been walking. Time was a blur of yellow leaves, sepia tree-trunks, the dull ache of his wound, and sickening nausea mixing inside him. He could only see the next tree, the sun rising overhead, and his footsteps fading red behind him. 

How could he have left him? He should have stayed, fought against the bandits, protected Merlin. No true king would abandon their most loyal servant. Or their best friend.

A memory rose unbidden. Merlin shaking his head, that familiar exasperation written all over his face.

_ “Honestly Arthur, what would you do without me?”  _ he’d grumbled.

“I don’t know,” he said, “Merlin…”

He sank to his knees, trying to escape the grief. He was injured and delirious, nearly lost in the woods. What hope was there for Merlin now?

A shout echoed in the distance. Arthur looked stood shakily and stumbled forward. Was it the bandits? He couldn’t be caught now!

Dizziness assailed him and he fell back to his knees. Arthur clutched his shoulder, cursing silently as the wound reopened, covering his hand in scarlet. 

Two riders stopped in front of Arthur. He could’ve recognized the red cloaks they wore if he’d been half blind.

Luckily for Arthur, the knights knew him too.

“Your majesty!” one gasped, quickly dismounting. 

_ Thank the Gods,  _ he thought, trying to stand again. The soldiers helped him to his feet.

“Bandits in the old mine,” he rasped, “hurry…”

The black dots were back; he sagged in their arms.

“We need to get him back to the keep,” he heard them say.

“No time,” he gasped, “The villagers… Merlin...You have to hurry.”

“We’ll notify the captain immediately,” the first soldier said, dragging Arthur towards the horses. “Don’t worry sire, we’ll take care of it, and our physician will look after--”

“No!” Arthur hissed as they mounted, “I need to go. I promised... By Tuesday.”

The soldiers were looking at him worriedly now. Arthur thought against his growing nausea. “Hurry up!” he said.

The soldiers ‘yessired’ and rode him back to the barracks. When the men were readied and Arthur’s wound had been quickly patched, they rode out to face the bandits.

It was Thursday.

 

***

Arthur was aware only of the clash of steel, Camelot red against dirty leather, and battle cries from both sides. Then they were in, fighting through the tunnels like fiends, driving off the bandits. When it was over Arthur breathed hard, about to collapse. Several knights were wounded, one or two dead.

But Arthur only had eyes for the prisoners. Over a dozen people had been kidnapped by the bandits before he and Merlin had been caught, but now there were only a couple left. He ran past them, trying not to imagine what happened to the rest, and searching--praying--for any sign of his manservant.

Eventually, he found the cell he and Merlin had shared. He lay on the floor, face turned away from the door. There was a small child in his arms, bruised blue-black.

“Merlin!” he gasped, flinging the door open and rushing to his side. He winced when he saw his servant’s hands and face and realized Merlin wasn’t moving.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry.” he sobbed, lifting the slender man into his arms. “This is all my fault.”

“...rthur?” he wheezed.

Arthur nodded, too emotional to speak. 

“Is it… Tuesday?” he asked.

“Yes,” Arthur said, voice breaking, “Yes, it’s Tuesday.”

“Hear that?” the little boy said, tugging Merlin’s sleeve, “he did come…”

“Yes,” Merlin breathed, “yes he did…”

His eyes closed again, and the tension left his shoulders. The child dropped his hand and became almost as still as Merlin. Arthur held both of them close, aware that he was crying but didn’t care.

A soldier came running; his eyes widened at the state of his king.

“I need a healer,” Arthur said, “ _ now _ !”

The man ran, and Arthur held his friend close.

“Don’t leave,” he prayed, “please Merlin, you can’t. I need you.”

Why had he let him stay? It should have been him to distract the guards, not Merlin. Anyone but Merlin.

Arthur thought he’d been asleep, but apparently not.

“Idiot…” he muttered, so quietly that Arthur nearly missed it, “I’m not… going anywhere.”

He squeezed Arthur’ hand with his injured one. 

“You better not,” Arthur said, not even bothering to wipe away his tears. “We all know I wouldn’t last a day without you, stupid servant.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Merlin’s face, then he really did fall asleep. 

 

***

After several days of nursing, the healer proclaimed that both Merlin and the boy were out of the woods, but Arthur only breathed easy when his manservant woke up a day later. On a Tuesday no less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, a little extra.
> 
> Arthur is never letting Merling out of his sight ever again.
> 
> After they return to Camelot Merlin adopts the little boy (because he's so soft-hearted) and Giaus trains him as a physician. 
> 
> And Merlin? He'd totally do it all over again. The dollop-head.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the ending; no conclusion, hope, or resolution. I didn't even write if Merlin and the boy die because part of me wants to write a second chapter. But... I dunno. If people really want that, I will do it. So, please comment if you want a part 2 (which, btw, wouldn't be so heartbreaking.) 
> 
> I just needed a break from my others fics (which are going nowhere) so I poured my insecurities into this and ta-da! a monster was born. 
> 
> Don't hate me.


End file.
